


Innocent as a Rose

by katayla



Category: Political RPF - US 19th c.
Genre: Age Difference, Attempted Seduction, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8970016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/pseuds/katayla
Summary: Frances knows just what she wants for her 16th birthday.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myrifique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrifique/gifts).



It was Frances Folsom's sixteenth birthday and she wore her finest dress and put her hair up for only the fifth time in her life. In other words, she was fully grown up and ready for her guardian to visit her. He always did, on her birthday, bringing her flowers and books and, most importantly of all, the gift of himself. He had always talked to her as if she were an adult and now it was time to prove to him that she _was_ as an adult. When she saw him walk up the front steps, she carefully positioned herself in front of a window, where the sun hit her hair just so.

"Happy birthday, Frank," Grover said, when he entered the parlor. He placed the flowers and a wrapped gift on a table, took her hands in his and brushed a kiss across her cheek. She fancied he lingered a bit longer than he usually did on the kiss and she started to turn her cheek, just a little, but he jerked his head away from hers. He started to pull his hands away, too, but she clutched them in hers.

"What are you up to, Frank?" he asked her, like he had done a million times before, when she was planning a prank or something else she knew he wouldn't like.

"Come sit with me," she said, and let one of his hands drop, but used the other to lead him over to the settee, and pull him down next to her. She spread her skirt so that it covered one of his knees.

"Where's your mother?" Grover asked, eying the closed door.

"Oh, out and about," Frances said, and scooted closer to him, until their legs pressed together.

He jumped up, pulling her up with him by their still clasped hands. "I'm sure it's not appropriate for you to be alone with a man."

And he dragged her along with him to the exit. Before he could open it, she slipped in front of him and leaned against the closed door. This did require her to finally let him squirm free of her hand. She immediately missed the feel of his large hand under hers. 

"Don't be silly. You're my guardian. What could possibly be inappropriate about us spending time together?" She raised her eyebrows. "Unless--"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You are sixteen years old, Frank. That is, _Miss Folsom_."

"Oh, I think all our years of intimate friendship allow you to use my given name." And she leaned closer to him. She'd tugged down the bodice of her dress as far as it would go, on advice from Ruth, her next door neighbor. Grover was so close to her that she was sure his eyes had no choice, but to . . . and, yes, he was no longer looking at her face at all. She took a deep breath--more advice from Ruth--and he jumped away from her.

"You are a young lady now and--no, I don't mean that! You are still very young and--"

She started walking towards him, letting her hips sway and taking more deep breaths, holding them just for a moment when her bosom was at its fullest. And he watched her for ten seconds--she counted--before heading towards the door again.

"But you can't leave yet," she said. "It's my birthday and you've barely said hello to me."

And she followed him to the door and put her hand on his arm. He was so much bigger than her, but always, always gentle. She remembered him boosting her up to climb trees and jumping from them into his arms, so sure he would catch her. And after her father died, he was always there for her in every way. She knew he wouldn't abandon her now.

"Hello," he said, and she slowly raised her eyes to meet his. The expression in his eyes made her cheeks heat. He reached down to stroke her cheek and she closed her eyes.

"Do you know what I want for my birthday?"

"Nothing I am prepared to give you," he said, and his hand slipped to her shoulder.

She tilted her head up to his. She was tall enough now that their faces weren't so far apart as they had been the last time they met.

"I bought you your crib," he said 

"And I am sure I enjoyed it very much." And she stepped closer yet to him until he was pressed against the door and they were only inches apart. She could feel the heat of his body and that made her want to blush and smile, all at the same time.

"My point, dear girl, is that you are beautiful, charming, intelligent, and 27 years younger than me."

"You counted!" She gazed up at him and stood on her tiptoes so their faces were even closer.

He started fumbling behind him, but couldn't quite seem to reach the doorknob. So, instead, he put his hands on both of her shoulders and gently pushed her down. "Yes, I counted. I was eleven years older than you are now when you were born."

"It doesn't matter to me."

He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead, like he did when she was five years old. "Yes, you've made that very clear."

She stepped back from him. "Don't patronize me, Grover. I am not a child."

And now his eyes swept her from head to toe and back again, lingering in certain promising places. "I do not think you are a child. But I am still your guardian and I refuse to let you make mistakes with your life."

"So when you're no longer my guardian, I'm free to make my own mistakes?"

"When I'm no longer your guardian, you will be engaged to a young, handsome man."

She stepped back towards him. "And if I'm not?"

He took up her hands and brought them to his lips. "If you are not, then perhaps we will have another conversation then."

This time, she let him go. She watched him pick up his hat and gloves from the table in the hall and watched his carriage drive down the street.

And she made plans.


End file.
